Any Kind of a Beauty
by Arianwen P.F. Everett
Summary: Lyanna Mormont has her first crush, forcing Brienne to evaluate her own experiences with attraction and try to help the Lady of Bear Island through it.


Authoress' Note: This is a short vignette about my two favorite GoT characters, Brienne of Tarth and Lyanna Mormont. It's a stand alone piece and complete. The title comes from Lyanna's own words to Sansa about her mother and herself, which show a striking parallel with Brienne's self perception, or at least that's what I see. Enjoy!

Not Any Kind of a Beauty

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

With the exception of Brienne of Tarth, nobody had really noticed it, and from her perspective that was a good thing. Brienne knew that she wore her feelings on her sleeve, no matter how hard she tried to conceal them, but thankfully the young lady from Bear Island was better skilled at hiding what was going on in her head. Still, Brienne had noticed and that meant that eventually someone else might as well. That's what worried her. She greatly respected the young lady and didn't want to see her hurt, and at this age, nothing hurt more.

Not that the Northern lords or anyone else at Winterfell would be outwardly insulting, but the snickers, whispered jokes, and clandestine bets could wear even the strongest soul down little by little, like a Braavosi waterdancer, inflicting small, precise cuts until the opponent grew more weary from blood loss than the battle itself, and Lady Mormont had little to no idea what was in store for her. It would be cruel to let her go into the next few years unprepared, but broaching the subject wasn't going to be easy.

Over a week had passed before Brienne had found the right moment, but one afternoon after the mid-day meal, she discovered Lady Mormont on the walkway overlooking the courtyard. To most, the girl was disinterestedly watching the landscape below, but Brienne could see that she was memorizing one face, one form in particular. Realizing the moment had finally come, Brienne plunged forward into what was sure to be an awkward conversation. "You have good taste, my lady."

Lyanna's eyes suddenly shot up to the women who'd startled her, then quickly dropped as she schooled her surprise. "Lady Brienne, is there something I can help you with?"

"No, my lady. I just wish to say that the king is very fortunate to have won your regard," Brienne offered, knowing that they needed to get through this word game before they could get to the heart of the matter.

"He has done the North great service and proven himself both brave in battle and just in rule. The North is lucky to have him, Lady Brienne," Lyanna returned, desperately hoping the warrior woman was simply making small talk. She was confused enough as it was and didn't want to talk about it.

"Yes indeed, but I wasn't speaking of the North's good fortune, my lady," Brienne pushed on, refusing to let up. This young lady no longer had a mother or older sisters, and being that she worshiped the Old Gods rather than the Seven, she didn't have a Septa either. The women in her household were servants, too low to discuss such intimate matters with the lady of a noble house, and the girl's advisers were all older men who'd likely always see her as the fierce and deliberate ruler that she was as long as they remained in her service. Yet Lyanna Mormont was also a girl who'd in but a few short years be flowered and grown, a reality that couldn't be delayed or denied. As cold as Septa Roelle had been, at least she'd existed and had tried her best to assist Brienne in adapting to her sex and the way the world worked, albeit unsuccessfully. Lady Mormont, on the other hand, had nobody to even attempt to help her through this. If Brienne didn't broach the subject, the girl would truly be alone.

Lyanna wanted to deny it, but she also had so many questions she needed answered. "I don't know what to say."

"On one hand, you know it's normal and healthy and yet you still feel like you're drowning in longing," Brienne stated succinctly, letting her own memories wash over her. Despite time and experience they were still so raw that she had to wonder which one of them would walk away from this conversation in greater turmoil.

"Does it get easier with time?" Lyanna asked, keeping her eyes on the ground beneath the walkway, lest they stray to where Lady Sansa and the king were discussing repairs to one of Winterfell's parapets. Whenever she'd get lost in her grief over her mother and sisters her advisers would remind her that it would get easier with time, and despite the sorrow that still persisted, they were right. She'd found new purpose as Lady of Bear Island when after the Red Wedding, she'd believed that she'd never be able to focus again. She was living her life, something that had seemed impossible back then, and she held onto the hope that one day she'd have a family of her own.

"It does. Eventually you'll no longer feel the desperation and pressing need in your heart. Days, then weeks, then months will go by when you won't even think about him. When you speak with him, you'll no longer worry about what he thinks about you. In those ways it will get better, yes," Brienne detailed, remembering how she'd learned to work alongside Renly as his Kingsguard and was eventually able to go several days without fantasizing about him seeing her as more than just his protector. Due to his preferences, she'd always known there would never have been more between them, but he'd still moved through her dreams as her lover every night until his death, and for months afterwards. Yet time had done its work and now Renly's death left only regret that she'd not been able to save a truly good king. While the fact that she'd never had the chance to love him no longer hurt all that much.

"I shouldn't feel this way. He's a king, and I'm not even flowered yet. It's crazy!" Lyanna hissed in anger at the situation she'd unwittingly found herself in.

"It is crazy, but we can't choose whom we love," Brienne replied, suddenly remembering Ser Jaime saying those exact words to her several years ago. Odd that they would pop out of her mouth at just this moment. She knew she loved him, but it wasn't nearly the same as it had been with Renly. In some ways it was deeper, but not as driven by craving. Ser Jaime was far more the handsome knight of songs and legends than Renly had been, and yet what she felt for him was exceptionally complex. True, her body desired him, but she understood that feeling well enough. This time around, it was the emotional closeness that she missed far more. If she got to choose between sending him a raven telling him about her day or kissing him, she'd choose the raven.

Yet even that would be highly inappropriate. She was an unmarried woman of noble birth and he an unmarried man of an even greater house. There were boundaries in place that even she, the Warrior Maiden of Tarth, didn't dare cross. There were even times when she was grateful that she'd likely never see or speak with him again. She couldn't have him any more than Lady Mormont could have Jon Snow, and yet Oathkeeper hung at her hip right this very moment.

Yes, with the army of the dead on the march, she would most definitely need it to kill wights and white walkers, but deep down she knew it would be there even if the Night King were still a myth for her. It would be there if she were released from her vow by Lady Sansa and Lady Arya and she and Pod started scouring the countryside for a new cause, lord, or lady to serve. It would be there if she returned to Tarth in order to assist her aging father with managing and protecting their island home, and as guilty as it made her feel, she knew it would still be there if she wed and bore children. Her body might yield to another man in time, if it were a prudent and practical move on her part, but her heart and soul were bound up with Ser Jaime in the Valyrian steel sword at her hip. Yes, time apart had mostly cured her of her obsession with Renly, but it hadn't yet dealt with her mixed up regard for Ser Jaime.

"That's even worse," Lyanna griped, sighing at the ever present pain in her chest.

"You know what helps though, keeping active, both mentally and physically. When I'm sparing, I get my focus back, and for a little while at least, I get a break," Brienne explained, hoping to coax the young lady into a sparring session with her. Though the girl was one of her best students, Lady Mormont was also expected to lead her bannermen, which meant that though she'd be far away from the front lines, she'd actually have to see the war firsthand. Her equally young peers would remain back at Winterfell and would only be sent off to fight in desperation. In short, Lady Mormont needed the extra training time more than the others because she was far more likely to need to use her skills. Helping her deal with her first crush would be an added bonus.

"I'm free until the council reconvenes later this afternoon," Lyanna offered, seeing where the Maid of Tarth was headed. Training was indeed a welcome distraction.

"Then get changed and meet me down in the yard in ten, my lady," Brienne commanded, slipping into her role as instructor. Most of what she did these days was teach the younger Northerners how to fight, but she found it gave her a great sense of accomplishment. Though the two ladies of house Stark were by no means out of danger, what remained of their family was all together in the safest place they could be at the moment, so other than following them around and keeping their counsel as she'd sworn to do, there was little actual action beyond training. In demonstrating form and fighting technique, Brienne found a sense of peace she'd never known before, and whatever the reason it existed, she'd take what it offered with both hands.

As she watched Lady Mormont scamper off, Brienne smiled as the child in her was allowed out. Being a lady meant acquiring responsibilities from your very first breath, but most ladies like herself had at least one parent to instruct them and hold up the weight until they were full grown and could take on the mantle they'd been born to. Lyanna Mormont lost all that at the Red Wedding, but in the gait of her run, Brienne saw that Walder Frey, Roose Bolton, and Tywin Lannister hadn't completely stomped it out.


End file.
